


Just Say Something

by GKmon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GKmon/pseuds/GKmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you just need to sit and talk. Even if what you really want to say doesn't end up getting said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Got Your Back

LOCAH isn’t nearly as bad as you’d imagined it would be. From what Jane described, you assumed it would be grim, depressing, and damp. Which it is.

It’s not terrible, but you could certainly do without the damp factor. (Water in general, you can deal with, most times, i.e. the rain from the seed pods here, and the bodies of water they’re responsible for. Damp is just another thing entirely, and it’s not fun)

It’s plain right off the bat that no one has lived on this god-forsaken rock since, well… since far longer than the four-hundred-and-thirteen years that originally separated you. No mistaking that.

It is also uncannily like something out of those Indiana Jones films Jake loves so much. Tombs filled with puzzles, scarabs crawling the walls, skulls everywhere, weird heiroglyphs and tablets. (in all honesty, you’re a bit confused as to why the game picked this for _Jane_ , as opposed to Jake)  
It is also dark. Very dark.

You remember having a difficult time adjusting to the low light, here, when you first came through the Gate. You were just lucky that a system of mirrors and lanterns keeps the place lit enough to see the paths. Not to mention those seed pods. Damn, those things are colorful.

Doesn’t change the fact that it’s still dim as fuck.

Which brings you to your current situation.

“Will you _please_ watch where you’re going?!”

Jane’s voice and a pound on your shoulder drags you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, _princess_ , but you’ve been really quiet, and a man will inevitably let his mind wander when no talking is done. Doesn’t matter where he is, or what he’s doing, the brain will inevitably take a vacation trip to the other side of the planet.”

“Pfft! This from the guy who will go on and on about robots and ponies and stuff when there’s nothing else to talk about!”

“You could help me by giving me something to talk about. Shit just doesn’t come up out of the blue, so to speak.”

She just huffs, and you can feel her bury her face in the back of your neck.

Neither of you says anything else, for now.

It’s been like this for a while, now. Ever since she took a bad step, while the two of you were exploring the ruins, and she twisted her ankle. (Maybe she’s getting a little too enthusiastic about this game, what with her running around from puzzle to puzzle. This place isn’t booby trapped, but it is still easy to take a nasty fall. You can thank the dimness of LOCAH for that.)

She’s been piggybacking on you, since then. It wasn’t a problem, at first; you both enjoyed the company to begin with, and she even expressed pleasant surprise when you offered to carry her.

Then things started to get a bit tense.

Right now, when she isn’t complaining about the rough terrain and/or you seeming to space out (you’re just checking in on Derse, nothing huge; and besides you’re just multitasking like AR advised), she’s had her arms around your neck like you’re the only life-preserve left on a sinking ship.

And of course, you’ve both been yelling at Lil Seb to stop scampering so far ahead.

You’re both tired, and small arguments have been happening more and more, like the one just now.

You’re sick of it, and you’re willing to bet she is, too.

Finally, in an effort to diffuse the tension that’s been building up, you say the only thing you can think of.

“Let’s just find someplace to camp.”

“Hmm?” She lifts her head up.

“I don’t know what time it actually is, but I really think we need to sit down, rest, and get our bearings.” You shrug, as you shift her higher on your back. “Besides, we need to do something about your ankle.”

She smirks and prods your collarbone. “Back to being a gentleman, are we, Strider? Why, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“I can and will drop you, Jane. Especially if you keep that attitude up.”

She chuckles, but doesn’t push any more metaphorical buttons. She simply gestures dramatically at the path before you.

“Lead on, Dirk!”


	2. Warmth

It isn’t long before you manage to find a lantern tower not too dissimilar from the ones Jane used to light the way into the crypts. (She hasn’t been able to find her way back to the one that was near her house when she first entered the Medium, and it’s starting to worry her. Resting at another one like it is probably not a pleasant reminder, but you don’t see any other options, if you want to avoid getting drenched by the pods floating by.)

You set her down against one of the pillars, as carefully as you can. You give Lil Seb the order to stand watch, (Not really necessary, given the lack of any other living things, but it will give him something to do) and you immediately set to work on patching up her injured ankle.

It’s already fairly swollen, but you can probably slow it down, or at least numb the pain, if you have something cold. You utter a few sick rhymes, and just the thing is deployed from your sylladex.

“Here, hold this in place.”

She gives you a funny look as you press a bottle of orange Faygo to her skin. She obliges, anyway, as you start looking for something to tie it in place.

Normally, people would use ice to stop swelling around an injury, but the only thing you have that fits the bill is your stash of soda. You’re just glad it’s still cool, after all this time. (Though it’s a safe bet that neither of you will want to drink it for a little while. No offense to Jane or her feet.)

“You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Hmm?”

She rolls her eyes and huffs again. “Oh, come on, Di-Stri, it’s obvious you don’t want me around, right now.”

“What gave you that idea?” You couldn’t find anything else that could hold the bottle in place, so you’ve settled for tearing your sleeves off into strips, instead.

Another huff. “Because you have been so cranky! You always have some crazy plan going on in that funny ol’ head of yours, and whenever something ruins the plan, or slows you down, or whatever, you get cranky. I got hurt, I messed things up for you, you’d rather go on ahead with the plan than help me.”

You pause in your binding the injury and stare at her over your shades. “You’re  _part_  of the plan, Jane. And I wouldn’t leave you behind, anyway.”

She rolls her eyes. “Bull crap.” She draws the words out slowly.

“I wouldn’t.”

A long sigh, this time, and she turns to stare at the floor. You finish securing the bottle to her ankle. (Even you know this is weird. But even if you had any other means of doing this, you wouldn’t really care.)

She has a point, though. Her injury did throw a wrench in the works, but it’s nothing you can’t work around. You’re already calculating numerous potential scenarios in your head, and mentally prepping yourself for each one.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” She looks back up.

You stand up and walk to her side. “You haven’t exactly been your usual self, either, Jane. What gives?” 

She doesn’t answer, right away. She watches Lil Seb scamper about on his patrol, then glances up at the chandelier, where Cal is now keeping an extra eye on things.

“I’m just… nervous, is all.”

“About?” You lean against the pillar.

She shrugs. “Well, everything, I guess.” She looks back at you. “I know you’ve got everything planned out, and all, but what if something goes wrong? What if I can’t find my dad?” (Okay, yeah, it was definitely a bad idea using this place as a shelter instead of finding another random set of ruins)

“And… oh, man, we don’t even know what happened to Jake or Roxy… oh, god,  _Jake_ …” She’s wringing her hands as she talks. (You’re not entirely sure what happened between those two, but you have a pretty good guess. Whether or not you’re right, all that matters is that it’s bothering her.)

She huffs, once again. “And not to mention that  _clown_  I saw before. The things he said… And those…  _potions_  he had.  _Ugh_ …” (You’d forgotten about that guy. Now you’re glad you told Lil Seb to patrol.)

A final huff, and she has her head in her hands. “This game is just insane.”

Okay, now it make sense.

“You’re just afraid.”

This earns you a glare from between her fingers. “Thanks for simplifying that.”

So she’s back to snarking. Not like this isn’t something you’ve dealt with before.

You slide down into a seated position next to her. “Fear’s normal. You don’t know what’s coming, so you panic. You either run away, or you go on the defensive. Neither one of us would be alive right now if we didn’t feel fear.”

She slowly drops her hands into her lap. She’s staring off into space, and you think you know why. (And you’ve told her multiple times in the last several hours that beating herself up about it isn’t worth it.)

“You have every reason to be afraid. No one’s judging you for wishing this was all just a really bad nightmare.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her head simply drops awkwardly onto your shoulder.

“Nothing I can say is going to help, is it?”

“No.” She does manage the smallest of smiles, however. “But thanks for tryin’.”

A long silence follows, during which the two of you find yourselves draping your arms over each other’s shoulders.

The fact that it’s so quiet and she’s so close… well, it allows you to notice lots of small details you didn’t really have the chance to, before. (Whether or not you meant to notice them, in some cases.)

The first thing you notice is that she smells sweet. Not sickeningly sweet, just… sweet. You can’t place the exact scent, but it’s pleasant. Those that could place the scent might even call it nostalgic.

When you’d put your hand on her shoulder, you’d brushed her cheek, in the process. You hadn’t anticipated the discovery you made: she’s got soft skin. Very soft. You’re getting some fuzzy feelings in your belly just thinking about it.

Of course, she’s also pretty. No, fuck that. She’s  _beautiful_. You’d have to be a complete idiot to not see that. Doesn’t matter if you’ve grown up around hundreds of people or completely alone. You’d have to be totally blind.

You let out a long sigh. She’s part of the plan for a reason. Several reasons, actually. Whether or not she knows something in particular is a reason, you might as well say it. You’ve been planning on saying it, soon, anyway.

“Jane, I-“

_DOOF._

You never get the chance to finish, as she falls limp, her head lolling onto your chest.

There’s a moment of panic, as you check that she’s still breathing. (You wouldn’t put it past Her Complete Ass-hattery to do something really insane and underhanded to any of you.) You’re relieved when you realize she’s just fallen asleep.

However, you do let out a groan and let your own head fall back against the pillar.

Couldn’t say it, sooner, could you?

The two of you are far from home, alone in an old tower, with rain falling outside; she’s sleeping, you’ve become a human body-pillow, and you couldn’t admit your feelings before she nodded off. You’re just one jacket draped over her arms away from a cheesy rom-com.

Still, you can’t fault her for falling asleep, even if she did so while wrapped around you like strings tangled around a marionette. It’s been a long day for both of you, and she’s been out of her element for almost the entirety of it. This is probably the first moment of peace she’s had, and she’ll need all the rest she can get for what’s bound to be ahead.

You look back down at her sleeping figure, and allow yourself a rare smile. As you wrap your arms around her, you notice the thing that really makes you happy to be around her.

_She’s warm._

Not feverish-warm. (You had to learn what that feels like, the hard way.) She’s comforting-warm. The kind that makes you want to just lie down and never get up, it’s so comfortable. You can’t help, but snuggle something or someone with that kind of warmth.

(For a moment, you feel awkward for resting with her, instead of Lil Cal. You look up at your old friend, still seated on the chandelier above you. He’s still smiling as wide as ever (possibly even wider) at you. In a show of gratitude, you flash him a thumbs-up; you wouldn’t dare betray your old friend, and he knows it. You know he knows. You know he also knows you need this, right now. He wouldn’t try and cock it up for you; he’s a real bro like that.)

You take a deep breath, and let yourself relax.

You’ll tell her. Sooner or later, you will tell her.

You’re still planning where, when, and how, but you’ll tell her.

_It’s a part of the plan._


End file.
